The Tragic Number
by Chinese Bakery
Summary: Rory's having a hard time adjusting to life aboard the TARDIS as Amy and the Doctor's 'friendship' develops.


When Rory woke up aboard the TARDIS for the first time, he couldn't remember where he was at first. The room was unfamiliar but rather pleasant; it had a dim glow that felt comfortable and intimate. Amy wasn't with him, although he remembered she'd been there, chatting animatedly about her adventures, when he'd dozed off the night before. There was no alarm on the bedside table, no windows to look out from. Having no time marker was disorienting; he felt like he had slept days away.

The TARDIS was like a maze, doors and stairwells and corridors everywhere. Some of the places he found made no sense -why would anyone need a ballroom on a spaceship?- and some were of the most ordinary kind. He took some time to explore but the more he saw, the more puzzled he became.

He finally found them in the library, reading together in a comfortable silence. The Doctor was sprawled on one end of the sofa while Amy was lying over the cushions, her calves crossed over his thighs.

"Oh good, you're up," she said brightly, making no attempt to move.

And _there _was that sense of dread again.

* * *

It didn't take much time for Rory to realize that unless Amy was in mortal peril, he was essentially useless in the face of danger.

There was that time when both the Doctor and Amy were trying to fight off human-sized bats. Rory found himself petrified, having no clue as to what the Doctor was aimlessly gesturing for, and Amy had to manage to free herself to retrieve the sonic screwdriver while Rory merely stood there, watching his life unfold before his eyes.

One evening, they'd been running from an angry mob when he tripped and fell in the middle of the street, starting a chain of events he'd rather erase from his mind altogether. A street fight almost occurred, psychic paper was flashed around and Amy had to sweet-talk several officers of the law in a way that brought back the sore memory of her kiss-o-gram days. Both she and the Doctor found the situation hilarious in retrospect. It only made Rory long for Leadworth's peacefulness.

As first weeks went, he'd had better ones. And he had yet to recover from the alien vampires ordeal.

At the end of the day, when they were all safe and out of harm's way, Amy and the Doctor cheered and babbled happily -where to, what's next?- while Rory sat in a corner and tried to camouflage his brooding with exhaustion.

It didn't help that everybody -humans, aliens, robots, talking animals alike- always assumed that Amy and the Doctor were an item and him, a slightly mentally impaired relative. In the best of cases.

* * *

One morning, in Amy's room -for a reason he couldn't fathom, there was an _Amy's room_ and a _Rory's room- _they were sitting together in one of those quiet moments that usually preceded an unforeseen hazard and a frantic dash toward the nearest exit.

Amy was engrossed in a fashion magazine she'd picked up on their way out from New New York, and Rory saw an opportunity he wasn't about to miss. He turned on his side and started laying soft kisses over her bared shoulder.

When he paused, she turned to smile to him before readjusting her jumper to cover the skin he'd just kissed, and went back to her reading.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked, refraining from gritting his teeth together.

"What do you mean?" she said without raising her eyes.

The key, he found, was to go ahead and just say it really fast.

"I've been here for a while now and we haven't- _you know_. Not once. We don't even sleep in the same room. So I've been wondering if there was a reason for us not to, _you know_."

"Well, we've been busy," she said with a frown, reluctantly laying her magazine aside.

"Not _that_ busy. We're not busy now. And we're newlyweds, sort of. We should be all over each other."

"We're not newlyweds," she countered with a forced chuckled.

"We could be, if only you'd come home." He moved so he was sitting opposite her, his knees against his chest. "Why did you ask me to stay, Amy?"

"Well, because you're my- my Rory! And it's brilliant here, isn't it? You shouldn't... not know how brilliant it is."

"So I'll understand what you left me for?"

"I never said that," she said defensively. "Or anything remotely _like_ that."

"You didn't need to. The Doctor, he's... Well, he's a rock star, in a way. I get it, I do. But it's not just that you like him. You want him to like you, too."

"So what, you want me to stop being likeable?"

Rory gave the ceiling a long, hard stare as he gathered his strength to address the piece of information he'd been withholding for days.

"I know you kissed him, Amy. He told me, in Venice," Rory said softly, and fixed his eyes on a spot on the wall. She did the same.

"I- Oh. _Oh_." Amy breathed in and out very slowly before speaking again. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"I don't know. I think I want you to figure things out on your own, but it doesn't look like you're trying very hard. To figure things out, I mean. You're certainly doing your best to be likeable."

"I'll make sure to act like a real hag from now on," she said back, disgruntled.

"That's not what I'm asking for, Amy."

"What is it, then? What are you asking for?"

"I'm asking you... Not to forget about us. About what we're about. And what's supposed to happen when we go home."

"Like I could," she muttered.

"Children," the Doctor interrupted suddenly, oblivious as always, "would you like to meet my old friend Julius Caesar?"

* * *

They touched each other a lot. Those mindless little caresses, the light pats, the half-hugs, the occasional temple kisses, the bow-tie pulling... They were putting Rory on edge.

They often finished each other's sentences -well, the Doctor did, for the most part- and it made her laugh. _He_ made her laugh. He knew that she hated the word 'reminiscent' and how sweet she liked her morning tea.

When the Doctor went quiet for too long, Amy always seemed to sense whether he merely required some time to himself or needed to be distracted from his inner turmoil. He had a darkness to him that took some time to discern. When she stood next to him, Amy only looked more luminous.

* * *

They had a miserable time in Barcelona.

Nothing much happened, which was exactly what Rory had been desperate for: an uneventful day of sightseeing and some time, finally, to enjoy each other's company. The Doctor made himself scarce, much to Rory's relief, and he and Amy walked down the animated streets hand in hand.

Amy talked a lot without once saying anything meaningful.

"When are we going home?" he asked as they sat quietly on a sunbathed terrace, and her smile froze instantly.

"We have all the time in the world," she said, her tone defensive.

He decided to let it go, once more, but her chatter became sparse and dispassionate on their way back. Rory's mood had turned stormy as well.

* * *

One late afternoon, Rory was summoned to the library.

"Rory, we need to talk," the Doctor said and pointed to the armchair opposite him. "So let's talk. Now's as good a time as any."

"Where's Amy?"

"On a shopping spree, I expect. This place has the best souvenir shop. She's safe," he added before Rory could protest, "don't you worry about her."

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked guardedly as he sat down, and the Doctor rolled his eyes.

"Oh, I don't know. The weather, current events, your favourite dish ever... Or maybe you could tell me about what's been eating you lately. All that resentment, it's upsetting my TARDIS. Besides, you're gonna give yourself an ulcer."

Rory only clenched his jaw.

"Amy loves you," the Doctor said after a moment, and Rory was left with no choice but to voice it out.

"Maybe she does, but she loves you, too."

"No, she doesn't. She loves this," he supplied, gesturing around. "The adventure, the madness, even the running. She pretends to hate it but I think she likes the running the best. She's mental, your girl. You know that, don't you?"

"You don't understand-"

"I do, actually. She's not my first... hitchhiker, if you will. I've seen it happen before, lots of times. It's too much at first, and it's hard to see a way back. Just give it some time."

"You really don't get it, do you? You have no idea of what it's been like for her. She's been hoping for this her whole life. She was heartbroken, but still she kept hoping for you to come back, always."

"I'm sorry about that. It should never have happened that way."

"It's all she's ever wanted. The mad man with a box."

"She was a little girl back then. It was either that or a pony."

"The first time around, maybe. It's different now. It's not just her," Rory said bitterly. "I'm not blind, Doctor. I see the way you act around her."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the Doctor said, wide-eyed and guilty-looking.

"Are you saying you don't like her?"

"Of course I like her. She's brilliant, Amy. She is."

"That's _not_ what I meant," Rory countered exasperatedly.

"I know what you meant, and I'm saying you've got it all wrong."

"And I'm saying you're a hypocrite!"

They faced each other silently for a long moment, until Amy's loud, phony cough snapped them out of it.

"I hate to interrupt a good peacock match, but it looks like you boys have reached an impasse," she said, and dropped her shopping bags to the floor.

"Amy," both the Doctor and Rory said at the exact same time, and Amy gestured for them to stay silent.

"I'll be in my room, if you two don't mind. All that testosterone, it's bad for my skin." With that, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

That same evening, there was a knock on his door. Amy walked in, her face impassive.

"The Doctor and I are going out for a walk," she said. "We won't be long."

"You're going for_ a_ _walk_. Right. Of course."

"Rory," she said impatiently, "I need to speak with the Doctor. I'm not asking for your permission. We'll be back in a little while."

If he hadn't been growing an ulcer before, he gained one for sure during the endless thirty seven minutes it took for Amy to knock on his door again.

* * *

When Amy came back, they went to sit together on the edge of his bed as Rory prepared to be crushed.

"I love you, Rory," she finally said. "I do. I haven't forgotten what we are, what we'll be, none of it."

"But..."

"But please- please don't make me go back now. Don't make me choose. I would choose _you_, you have to know that. I'd choose you, and then I'd be miserable because there are too many things I need to see. That door's open now and I know it won't always be. I've waited and waited and leaving it all behind so soon... I will, if you ask me to. But I'd rather you didn't."

"What about the Doctor?"

"Nothing's ever happened. You know that, don't you?"

"You kissed," he reminded her.

"Temporary insanity! You thought the bats were creepy, well. You should have seen those angels."

"Okay, say, nothing has happened _yet_. Am I supposed to just sit there with my finger-crossed?"

"It's different, with the Doctor. It's not love, it's... infatuation, I suppose. With both him and the lifestyle. My childhood dreams, too. It's all mixed up together and I can't untangle it. It's there now, but it'll pass before you know it. You and I, we're forever."

"We are?"

"We are," she repeated confidently.

"So, what happens now? Before the infatuation fades and forever starts?"

"That's up to you, Rory."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"Haven't you heard anything I've just said?"

"No, I mean, do you want me to go back to Leadworth until you're over... whatever it is you need to get over?"

"Oh, Rory, I- I don't know what to say to that."

"You could say yes. _Or_ you could always say -lets trash that stupid spaceship and go back to the finest little town in all of England. Have another kind of adventure. I don't know about you, but I've always wanted to breed some gooses," Rory added, and earned a chuckle, at long last.

"Do we have to make decisions right this instant?"

"No. Of course, we don't," he answered graciously.

"Know what?," Amy asked suddenly, a gleam to her eye. "I'm not busy now. Are you busy?"

* * *

A few days later, the TARDIS materialized in Leadworth once again.

"Rory Williams," the Doctor said as he gave Rory a bear hug, "the boy who waited."

"Man. Not boy. The man who waited, if you _must _give me a title."

"I'll make sure you don't wait too long."

* * *

_The door closed and the TARDIS wheezed._

_"Where to, now?" the Doctor asked._

_"Somewhere... venturesome, but friendly. Let's take it easy on the running today," Amy replied, dabbing at her eyes._

_"My thoughts exactly. Amy Pond, I'm going to find you the most commendable planet that ever was."_


End file.
